Hollywood's Not America
by Deanstiel's Daughter
Summary: A case in California leads Sam and Dean on a race against time to save the people of Hollywood's streets from being airborne monster chow, but when an old and now rather famous flame of Sam's enters the picture the younger Winchester not only has to deal with the hunt at hand, but also his past. (Sam Winchester x Original Male Character) (Past flame.)
1. Prologue

Prologue

"I swear Sam," a young man of about twenty three years old whined at his friend. "You're literally the lamest person I know! There's this sick party down at one of the pledge houses and you'd rather stay here and read?"

"That was kind of the plan from the start," Twenty one year old Sam Winchester replied to his friend, chuckling and flipping his shaggy bangs out of his eyes as he entered his dorm. He really needed a haircut, but he'd been neglecting it just like cleaning his dorm. Empty coffee cups and dirty clothes lined the dresser and floors. His bed was unmade and even a dirty sock hung from a lampshade. "I'm not really the party type."

"Yeah right," Sam's friend plopped down on his office chair on his side of the room and kicked his feet up on the desk nearby. "And I'm not Paul Wakefield."

"Last time I checked that was your name." Sam replied, hanging up his jacket and running a hand through his hair as he thought about all he needed to do before the next day even though it was Friday night.

"Thus," Paul shrugged even though his arms were behind his head. "Your argument is invalid Mr. Winchester."

Sam rolled his eyes. His best friend and roommate Paul Wakefield was quite the character sometimes. Paul was thin, but muscular and had the same figure as Sam even though according to Sam he ate "nothing but junk food and beer". He had short dirty blonde hair that was in a crew cut and piercing blue eyes that put the California waters to shame. He had a nice smile and a bit of stubble on his face. He was the type of guy that Hollister asked to model for them. He had the tan, the six pack of abs, and the charm that made girls drool and bat their lashes and guys jealous. He was suave and impulsive. Two things Sam was very used to living with Dean and his father for so long before coming to Stanford to study law. Paul was a self proclaimed party animal and was usually found entertaining anything with two legs. He was majoring in Acting and Theater and wore just the right amount of cologne.

Not that Sam paid too much attention to that.

"You know," Paul played with a bobble head of Einstein on his desk, he'd told Sam that it was a metaphor for the life Paul's father wanted him to pursue, but Paul flatly refused. "One day you're gonna get out of this death trap, we both are, and you're gonna regret not having a little fun."

"Oh really," Sam laughed, a smile spreading from ear to ear. "I'll gladly place a bet on that Paul, cuz honestly I'll be perfectly happy not partying."

"Prude," Paul joked and Sam flopped down into his desk chair. Paul powered up his computer and it slowly started. Once it did he flipped through a ton of emails before jumping up and running around the room like a maniac searching for something. "Sammy I hate to bug you, but I need some clothes."

"I happen to like the ones you have on right now fine." Sam joked, but in reality he'd leaked a bit of the truth into it. He did admire Paul's style and often found himself staring at what the man was wearing. He also didn't mind that he called him a by childhood nickname. It was very endearing when Paul said it.

"This is serious Winchester," Paul flipped up the comforter from the side of his bed and searched under it for socks. "I have an interview!"

"An interview," Sam inquired. "What for?"

"Why professional acting of course," Paul brought a hand to his chest and pretended to be snotty. "The theater Gods have called upon me to be their new king! Time is of the essence Sammy chop, chop find me a suit I know you own nicer clothes than me!"

"Left side of my closet," Sam instructed Paul and the man bolted over there throwing open the doors and carrying the suit over to his bed, lying it down like a newborn. He begun to unbuckle his belt. "Look man, I'm rooting for you I am, but some actors take forever to get noticed."

"Sammy Winchester," Paul stood in his boxers before removing his shirt too. "Why do you doubt me so? This is a step in the right direction. Look, I guarantee you in ten to fifteen years you're gonna see my name in lights. I'm gonna have the cushiest house in Hollywood by my standards, I'm gonna be eating gourmet Ramen noodles instead of those 99 cent ones!"

"Are those even a thing?" Sam asked letting out a nervous chuckle afterwards. Sam was not gay. Not by any means, but he had to admit now that he'd gotten away from his brother and father he'd begun to notice things. There weren't just monsters in his world now. There were actual real live people. He'd talked to loads of them male and female and Sam had to admit he'd checked out both. He chalked most of it up to the finale of his raging teenage hormones that was just left over, but the other half he couldn't quite explain. Paul was gorgeous that was something that even Sam couldn't deny, but even though he'd checked out the occasional guy before he'd never wanted to go any further with any of them. Paul made him want to and he didn't quite know why.

"Hell," Paul pulled on the pants and jumped around trying to get his other leg in the right side. "If they aren't I'll invent em!"

"You're a character you know that?" Sam turned his head to get a look at the man as he brushed his teeth in the bathroom faster than lightning.

"That's the goal," Paul spit out the toothpaste and gargled some water, a bit of it splashed on his shirt. He looked down at it and gave a look. "You don't think they'll notice that do you?"

Sam rolled his eyes and tried to keep the flush on his cheeks to a minimum when he laughed. Paul danced over to his ancient iPod shuffle and pressed play. He'd rigged up some sort of stereo system using speakers he'd brought from his home in Iowa. The iconic sound of Pat Benatar bled through them.

"_We're running with the shadows of the night so baby take my hand it'll be alright!"_

Paul sang along for a bit until he hit the next button and another ancient tune came on.

"Really," Sam asked. "Frankie Goes to Hollywood? You do know that this song is NOT about Frankie becoming famous right?"

"Every guy knows that Sammy," Paul was deciding between two ties and singing along to "Relax". "It gets me in the mood sometimes."

Sam blushed furiously, this time he couldn't help it. Paul had winked at him and everything. Sam swallowed hard and shifted on the bed crossing his legs and putting his hands down on his stomach.

"Geez," Paul laughed. "You're redder than a tomato. C'mon Sammy everybody does it!"

"I know but," Sam stammered.

"Not the subject you wanted to discuss with me I know," Paul flashed that smile and Sam felt like he was going to melt like butter on hot toast. Yeah, that'd be something licking hot butter off of Paul's...Sam shook his head out of those thoughts and simply nodded. "Well then I'll just change the tune."

Paul waltzed over to the iPod and changed the music again, this time to some slower song by a band Sam had never heard of. Paul loved his music, which was another thing Sam knew about him. Hell, if Sam made a list of all the things he knew about Paul he could fill an entire library.

"Well I really must go," Paul pulled on the jacket of the suit and turned to Sam as if presenting himself. "It's been fun Sammy, but fame awaits! I shall see your fabulous face later."

Paul exited the room faster than a jackrabbit. His whole body radiated the aura of excitement and Sam couldn't help but smile at his best friend's potential success. Sam's heart fluttered for a mere moment before he shook his head and laughed and turned to his computer. He had a paper due in three days.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Sam awoke with his head sprawled out on top of his arms at his desk. The alarm clock read eleven pm and he realized he'd been asleep for two hours since Paul left the dorm. He wiped his chin which had been smeared by drool and sniffed. He ran a hand through his hair before looking up at his computer screen and blinking through the brightness. He'd written three out of the six required paragraphs for the paper. That was good enough for the night. Sam smiled at his work and powered off the computer after saving it. He cocked his head at the reflection he saw behind him in the computer monitor and spun around.

Paul was standing in the doorway, but something was off. His usual carefree manor was missing. The man practically dragged himself into the dorm room and the smile he'd worn before his departure was long gone. His eyes were red around the edges and he tore the tie around his neck off and threw it to the ground. He kicked off the shoes and quickly discarded the suit. He let out a deep sigh.

"What happened?" Sam asked eagerly as he stood up.

Paul didn't answer at first. He calmly walked over to the ancient CD player that his parents had given him and popped in a disc of tunes that Sam recognized immediately. Paul always listened to the band _Toad the Wet Sprocket_ when he was upset. The solemn sound of the first few notes of their song _Something's Always Wrong_ played through the stereo's speakers and filled the silent air.

"I wasn't good enough," Paul almost whispered as he shut the door to their dorm room. "They said I wasn't the one. They interviewed me and everything Sammy. Who does that? Who builds up someone's hopes and then tears them away just like that?"

Sam could name at least one person in his life.

"Paul," Sam's voice was a bit shaky too. "I'm sorry."

"Don't say you're sorry," Paul sighed again and tears threatened to fall from his eyes as Sam guessed they had been before he'd arrived back from the interview. "It's not like you did this. I just wanted it so badly. You ever just want something so badly that you just feel like you can reach out and touch it?"

"_All the damn time." _Sam thought, referring to Paul himself among one million other things in his life.

"I thought I could touch this," Paul shook his head. "I was wrong. I was stupid to think I fucking could."

"Hey," Sam's look changed to determined. "Don't you dare say that. Don't you fucking dare! You're Paul Wakefield for God's sake. You can do anything! You are literally the greatest person I know."

"You're flattering Winchester," Paul said, refusing to look Sam in the eyes. "But I'm no hero. Can't even land a damn job..."

"Paul," Sam's face flushed again as he grabbed the man's cheeks with his hand and forced him up to his feet. "Shut up."

Sam kissed him, hard. He hadn't wanted anything like this until he'd met the man and even now it didn't feel real. Sam loosened his grip on Paul's face only when surprisingly he kissed Sam back. Paul seemed to certainly know what he was doing because Sam felt every little emotion Paul had in that moment in each of his kisses. Sadness, the kiss was slow and gentle, anger, it was rougher, lust. Lust was the best one of all. Eventually he broke the kiss though and stared up at Sam still staying close to him.

"How long?" Paul asked.

"Basically since I met you," Sam replied, feeling a bit bolder now that his affections had been graciously returned. "You don't...mind do you?"

"Hell no," Paul replied. "Took yah long enough to figure out what I'm into. But I didn't know you were..."

"I'm not," Sam protested, but then stopped. "I mean, I don't know if I am yet or not. I'm trying to figure that out."

"Well then," Paul smirked, some of his sarcastic and witty nature returning even though he'd been upset. "Let's see if I can't help you with that huh?"

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	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

**Four Years Later...**

"That's a wrap!" the director yelled out cut and the actors stopped what they were doing, dispersing from where they had been shooting their last scene of the day. Paul Wakefield ran a hand through his hair and sighed. It had been another long working day, but he loved every second of it. He'd single handedly brought the character Dan Martyr from the young adult book series _Fantastic Dan _by portraying him in a series of ten movies based off of the novels. They were in the process of filming the fourth movie right now that was to come out in theaters the following year. Paul took a swig of his water bottle that the intern on set named Rodney Gray handed him. Rodney was a bit of a shrimp. He was scrawny and typically did anything the boss told him to, but Paul didn't mind the guy. He was attractive, he was always in a good mood regardless of what he had to do for the cast and crew, and he was fun to talk to in the downtime that Paul did have between shoots. Plus he always got the coffee orders right and the guy had interesting hair. It was like a salt and pepper look, but he was much too young for that. Some of it was white while the rest was darker. He had definitely dyed it to look like that.

Paul worked amongst many other interesting characters. His agent who's named was Peter Nansemond got him the best jobs and always told the best jokes. His makeup artist Judy Bloom enjoyed sharing her name with a famous fictional character and doing Sudoku. She had gone to beauty school and was hoping to one day own her own salon, but for now she was starting with movie stars. Even Paul's co-star Miranda Howitzer who played Dan's sidekick Mindy and who was a knockout had her quirks. He loved his co-workers though and he wouldn't have traded any of them for anything except for maybe answers to the number one question that had been bugging him and everyone else in Hollywood as of late.

Paul walked into his trailer and sat down on the couch. He flipped the switch on the TV remote and the news came on immediately. He threw open the fridge and grabbed an apple out of it, tossing it up into the air then catching it and taking a bite of it.

_"Reports have flooded in once again of another attack," _the news reporter said. "_Another person has been taken from the street and disappeared without a trace. Henry Jackson, 23 years old, was walking home last night from a local bar when he disappeared without a trace right in front of this alley. One witness claims the following:"_

It cut to the witness, a frantic homeless woman who looked wigged out on every drug there was.

"_It was huge," _she shook a little and Paul sat down on the couch, crunching on his apple and watching intently. "_It had these big wings that were black and white and it was so loud and bright I thought God had come! It picked up poor Henry and took him away. I screamed and screamed but nobody came."_

Paul was intrigued. He'd been following this story for weeks. Yet another man had gone missing and the police were at their wits' end. They were chasing something that they knew nothing about. Paul could only take a guess at what was really going on. It was something the police weren't equipped for and that he was. The sun was beginning to set outside and the set was closing for the night. Paul could see the techies and the cleanup crew securing everything outside for the night. They weren't going to be shooting for the majority of the weekend and Paul was thankful for the time he could use to supposedly relax, but the movie star knew that his time wouldn't be spent relaxing as his co-workers thought it would.

_"If anyone knows anything regarding this case," _the news reporter said. "_Please call the crime line."_

Paul turned off the television and closed the doors on the hutch where it was stored. He turned off the lights after grabbing his phone and the keys to his sleek black Porsche. He then walked out and shrugged on his jacket, before striding across the lot where they'd been filming to his car.

"Night Paul," the director, Simon called out. "See yah on Monday."

"See yah then boss." Paul smiled and got into the driver's seat of his car, pulling out of the lot and through the gate that opened by the night watchman's command. He turned up the radio and Journey's _Lights _blasted through the speakers. Steve Perry's iconic voice became a blur as Paul made his way through the crowded streets of Hollywood. On every corner there were homeless panhandlers, tourists taking pictures on the walk of fame and famous spots, and various stars in disguise or regular folk going about their nightly business. The air was warm and the street lights were just beginning to cut on. The traffic started to lighten up as Paul made his way towards the neighborhoods.

_"So you think you're lonely, well my friend I'm lonely too."_

"Story of my life..." Paul muttered. Sure he had friends, but they weren't always the crowd he wanted to hang out with. They enjoyed parties and drinking so much that they defecated or puked in public and ended up in whatever tabloid that the photographer closest to it all was a part of. No, Paul wasn't really a true part of that crowd. He was famous, but he didn't go about making a public ass of himself or boasting it to anyone around him. He preferred his quiet evenings at home with his staff and a beer on his back porch overlooking the ocean where the sunset was in his opinion, perfect. His college friends, he hadn't spoken to them in years. They'd all gone their separate ways after graduation and though he could've easily picked up his phone and dialed any one of them up he never did.

Paul pulled into the driveway of his ranch style mansion and the automated gates shut behind him. He put the car into park and walked inside just as the sun was starting to go down.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

"Rise and shine Sammy," Dean tossed a wadded up napkin at his younger brother Sam's face, waking him up from his nap. "Or should I say rise it's evening time. We've made it to Tinsel town."

"Really," Sam groaned and rubbed the back of his neck then he stretched as best he could in the Impala. He yawned before looking around and speaking again. "You're sure Bobby said the case was here."

"He's pretty sure of it Sam," Dean replied. "I don't think I would've driven all the way out here otherwise."

"Good point," Sam sighed and looked over the newspaper clippings once more before Dean found the nearest motel. The majority of what Sam had to look at was tabloid clippings, but even hidden within those were potential evidence for hunters. "So Bobby says we're dealing with some kind of flying creature?"

"Potentially," Dean nodded. "The locals are baffled. They don't know what they've seen and unfortunately a majority of the witnesses were drugged out homeless people."

"That doesn't mean they don't know what they saw." Sam said.

"You in defense of Hollywood's bums now huh?" Dean laughed.

"No," Sam replied. "I'm just saying there's always more to the story that meets the eye."

"You would've been a hell of a lawyer," Dean replied. "Just saying."

Sam sighed. It was true. He'd been in school to become a lawyer. That was what he was supposed to be doing right now instead of this endless running around with his brother hunting monsters and hustling for money for food and gas for the Impala. But all of that had gone out the window the night Jess had died. Sam had been so consumed with rage over what had killed her that he'd lost sight of his original job goal in life. Normally he'd be on target, focused, like Dean always was on hunts, but coming back to the state he'd left behind brought up bad memories that Sam had hoped to forget, people too.

Then again, not all of his time spent in California had been bad...

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

"Alfred," Paul buttoned up his shirt and pulled on a black sport coat over it. He combed his wet hair from the shower he'd taken and opened a deeper compartment in his closet. "I'm going out tonight. I'll probably be back late."

"I don't know why you insist on calling me Alfred," his best staff member named Howard said in response. "That's not my name."

"Because," Paul smirked and pulled a knife out from the compartment before shutting it and slipping the knife into the back of his belt securely. "You're the only one who knows my dirty little secret life at night. I'm like Batman and you're like Alfred."

"I suppose that makes sense sir," Howard smiled. "Do be careful. I've heard there's a monster out there."

"That's why I'm going out," Paul replied as he walked out of his bedroom and grabbed his keys off of the kitchen counter island. "Somebody's gotta make some leeway on this case and the police certainly aren't going get there."

"Don't get roofied." Howard warned with a laugh.

"You should know me by now Alfred," Paul laughed in response. He opened the front door and then closed it. He pressed a button to open the garage and there he saw his Porsche. He ran a hand along the hood, checking for scratches and dents, then got into the driver's seat and started it up. He kept talking even though he knew Howard couldn't hear him "I'm always careful."

Paul took off down the road towards the city, the gates shutting behind him.

**Reviews are appreciated!**

**So? What is the creature and will Paul and Sam and Dean's paths cross? If so, when?**

**Are you all enjoying the story so far?**

**More to come soon!**


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"We're here on a case and you wanna go drinking?" Sam was seriously beginning to question his brother's motives now.

"One beer," Dean explained. "Does not constitute as drinking, besides if we stalk the local hot spots where locals have been reported going missing we may just get a lead and hopefully the hot waitresses phone number."

Dean turned his head in the direction of the bar and smirked. Sam rolled his eyes. The two brothers chose a table closest to the door in case they had to make a fast exit after a potential monster or to save a victim from being food. Dean ordered a beer and added an extra wink at the blonde waitress whose 'boobs could have their own area code' according to Sam and she giggled in response before walking off towards the other customers then the behind the bar.

"Lighten up Sammy," Dean smiled and nudged his brother in his shoulder. "I don't know what's got you so moody nor do I know why you're not telling me, thus I can only assume you're on your man period."

"I am not on my man period Dean," Sam snapped. "I just happen to have bad experiences last time I was in this state. So I'd rather you not poke fun at me. Thanks."

"Geez," Dean replied. "Chill Sammy, I was kidding around. Fine be a bitch."

Sam let out a small sigh and scoped out the bar around them. If any night prowling supernatural creature was going to make an appearance it would be near a place where unsuspecting drunks were going to stumble out unknowingly into its trap.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Paul Wakefield sat at the bar adjacent from the front door. He hoped that if this kidnapping creature made its way through the door he'd be able to catch it before it claimed its next victim. He'd nursed the same beer all evening since he'd arrived and he'd tried to avoid the paparazzi that were more than likely running the streets trying to find leads on anything or just the next round of dirt on any star they could catch up with. Paul had always stayed on their good side. Not making an ass out of himself like so many others did. Not crashing his million dollar car that he wouldn't even dream of wrecking anyway because he cared about it too much. Not even flipping off the people that pissed him off in traffic. He couldn't make himself look bad and not because of the image it would give of him to his fans, but because if the newspapers and tabloids found one bad thing on him they'd keep digging. They'd dig until they found out about what he did at night. They'd lock him up in the psych ward and he certainly didn't need that. Not when there were innocent people to save.

He downed the last few drops of the beer and was about to ask for the check when a man walked into the bar and caught Paul's attention. The two made eye contact and the man sat down a few barstools away from Paul, but something stuck in Paul's head. The way his eyes had reflected in the light had been almost cat-like. The man, it was almost undoubting he was a shape shifter. Paul hesitated taking an action, but at the same time it was highly likely the shifter could be the culprit. If he was, Paul decided the guy had some nerve coming into public like that. The movie star scooted a few bar stools over and casually ordered another beer even though he wasn't really going to drink it. He struck up a conversation with the shifter.

"You come here often?" Paul asked.

"Look buddy," the shifter replied. "I don't swing that way so don't even think you have a snowball's chance in Hell."

"Touchy," Paul chuckled. "You're not really my type anyway."

"What the hell do you want?" the shifter took a long gulp of his drink.

"You've heard about those kidnappings right?" Paul asked. He acted as though he didn't want to choke the shifter right there and kill him, but then again that was what Paul Wakefield was good at: acting. "Damn shame. Those were good people."

"Who cares?" the shifter said gruffly. "They were just people. They'll turn up eventually."

Paul could sense the shifter was on edge. He didn't know if it was because of him or for another reason. The actor didn't know what prompted his next actions, but he lifted his jacket slightly to reveal the knife he'd brought with him. It was made of pure silver. It might not kill the shifter, but it would definitely hurt him.

"I figured you'd say that." Paul said in a lowered, but stern voice.

The shifter's shoulders went rigid and he slowly started to stand up to escape, but Paul was faster. He pinned the shifter to the wall and gave a look that could kill. The shifter behaved differently than he'd anticipated and the next thing Paul knew he'd been clocked in the jaw by the shifter's fist and the creature started to take off. Paul didn't give up though. He grabbed the shifter's jacket and he fell to the ground. Paul's actions earned a few scared gasps from customers and a few even left the bar. The bartender reached for the phone to call the authorities, but Paul shot him a look that made him regret his previous decision and his hand dropped back to his side. Paul saw a few more people run out, but they were far too drunk to comprehend anything to tell the authorities. The shifter was underneath Paul and the actor had the knife out, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

"I didn't do it!" the shifter yelled. "Whatever did man, that thing is lethal!"

"Do you know what it is though?" Paul tried to grind answers out of the creature. He twirled the knife almost menacingly though he wasn't going to kill the shifter if in fact he wasn't responsible. Paul had a code after all and that didn't involve killing randomly.

"N-No idea," the shifter stammered a little. "But it sure was big!"

Paul was distracted for a moment by the approach of two other men. He didn't get a good look at them at first because the shifter decided at that moment it was a great idea to punch Paul again. The actor fell backwards onto his ass and rubbed at his chin again. The shifter carefully made his escape right as Paul hopped up. Paul cursed under his breath and reached for his knife, but not before another hand picked it up.

"You dropped this—"

The voice cut off, but it was familiar. Paul had heard it one million times before. It was a voice that had both haunted him and that he'd cherished for a long time. It was a voice Paul had thought he'd never hear again. Sensing the slight awkwardness though and the look on the other man's face, Paul did the only thing he could think to do.

"Well hey there Sammy Winchester," he smiled, his signature bright smile. "Fancy meeting you here?"

**Reviews are appreciated!**

**The chapters will get longer as the story goes I'm just setting things up. Plus my mother won't stop coming in my room every five seconds today -_-**


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

That was how Paul ended up at the motel room of the Winchesters. Against Dean's judgment of course, but Sam admitted he knew Paul and that unlike the other hunters the Winchesters had worked with they could trust him. So that was how the famous Paul Wakefield ended up in the dingy motel room in the red light district of his old flame and his old flame's older brother. Dean was currently in the bathroom and Sam sat sort of uncomfortably at the only table in the room. Paul leaned up against the wall with his arms crossed watching outside.

"So," Sam finally spoke up. "You finally made huh?"

"To Hollywood?" Paul asked. "Yeah I did. My life's dream is accomplished I guess."

"I've seen your face on TV," Sam admitted. He'd always felt this twinge of some emotion he never could put his finger on when he saw Paul on commercials for the latest upcoming movie he was in. "Fantastic Dan suits you best."

"Thanks." Paul nodded.

"Ok," Dean walked back into the room and tossed the towel he'd been using on the back of a chair. "I can sense the awkwardness from here. I don't know what happened between you two and I'm not gonna ask, but I didn't know you made other hunter friends while you were gone off to college Sammy?"

"Yeah I didn't know either." Sam turned to Paul for an answer and the actor turned towards Sam.

"I didn't start doing this until much later," Paul explained. "I didn't do it when you knew me in college."

"So you met him in college?" Dean asked. He was just trying to gain the full details about who they were working with.

"We were roommates." Paul said. Sam swallowed hard. He didn't want to reveal the rest to Dean, not yet. He wasn't worried about his brother's judgment. The younger Winchester was mostly worried about re-opening the wounds of the past.

"Alright," Dean said, reaching out to shake his hand. "Well Paul Wakefield I believe that Sam left you out when he talked about his college buddies. I'm Dean Winchester. His older brother."

"I've heard quite a lot about you," Paul smiled and shook Dean's hand. "In fact Sammy wouldn't ever shut up about you. He talked very highly about you."

"Oh really," Dean chuckled. "I'm shocked.

"So Paul," Sam interrupted before they went too deep into the conversation. "What were you doing at that bar? Much less terrorizing shifters?"

Paul got off of the wall and started to pace. Sam remembered that he used to do that when he was thinking. It was strange being able to remember each little habit of someone even from so long ago. Dean took a seat across from his brother and popped the lid on the beer he'd grabbed from the mini fridge.

"There have been a number of disappearances around here in the past few weeks," Paul explained as he twirled his knife around. A habit that he and Dean shared. "At first the police thought it was some serial kidnapper if that's even a thing or something like that, but now they have no clue. I think some creature is taking these people and since I'm the only hunter that I know of in Hollywood I decided to work the job. Then I met up with you two and honestly I'm glad. It's hard enough being a star during the day then having to keep this dirty little hunting secret at night."

"Then why do it?" Sam asked. He wasn't trying to be mean, he simply was curious as to why Paul got into the life to begin with.

"Because someone has to take care of the things that go bump in the night around here," Paul replied. "I can't call myself an on screen hero and not actually save anyone when I know plenty about the monster world and can help."

"I like his reasoning," Dean motioned to Paul and took another sip of his beer. "I can't believe you didn't let me meet this guy before now Sam?"

"I never thought it would've come up." Sam sort of mumbled and then after a few moments of silence Dean finally spoke again.

"Is there anything you already know about the case?" Dean asked.

"One homeless woman witnessed the latest kidnapping," Paul said. "She said it was a large black and white creature and that it swooped up the man and took him away. My guess is she might've seen something, but the police and the news crews aren't going to bother with her. I say we go talk to her and ask her what she saw. I have one day off before I have to go back to the set on Monday so I say we go tomorrow morning."

"Back the set?" Dean asked, intrigued.

"The movie set," Paul said with a smile. "I'm the lead character in the Fantastic Dan movies."

"I knew I'd seen your face somewhere," Dean pointed and realization flooded over him. "Sammy why didn't you tell me you knew someone famous?"

"I didn't think it would ever come up Dean," Sam replied once again. "And my name is Sam not Sammy."

Sam got up from his chair and went into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him and earned a confused look from Dean. Paul only sighed and after a moment their voices started up again. Sam stared at himself in the mirror and splashed water on his face. A flood of emotions he'd hoped to forget were coming back in waves that he was afraid he was going to drown in if he dwelled on the thoughts for too long. Sam had hoped that he and Dean would just get the job done and get the hell out of dodge. But Sam knew his luck also never panned out the way he wanted it to and now they were stuck on a case with the one person Sam had nothing to say to. He wasn't ready to open up that can of worms with Dean yet. By the time Sam finally had the guts to re-enter the room Paul was making his exit claiming that if he didn't get home from the red light district he'd surely end up the tabloids and that he'd come find them tomorrow.

Dean eyed Sam like he was waiting for an explanation or something of the same nature, but Sam ignored the look and popped open a beer and flopped onto his bed. Dean sighed and got changed into sleeping clothes before he too climbed into bed and turned off the light on his side table and closed his eyes. Sam stayed up for a little while longer before he too found sleep taking over him.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

_"This is the first time you've done this isn't it?" Paul asked Sam as the two of them laid in his bed, the covers strewn every which way and their shirts missing. Their faces were flustered with lust and heat and Sam's eyes were wide with an emotion Paul had dubbed to be anxiety. Paul rubbed his hand along Sam's right side of his bare torso in hopes of calming him._

_ "Y-Yeah," Sam stammered a bit. He was caught between a whine and words as Paul's hand ghosted across his side. "I'm sorry. I want to do this trust me. I just—"_

_ "You're scared," Paul cupped Sam's cheek and looked him in the eyes. "I need to know that you're ready Sam. I'm not going to do something you don't want to."_

_ "Paul," Sam grabbed his arm and looked him in the eyes again. He channeled the confidence he knew Dean had in situations he knew nothing about. "I want this." _

_ Sam captured Paul's lips in his own and Paul groaned as Sam's hands rested on Paul's hips. Even through his jeans he could feel Sam's palms and that in itself was arousing. Sam let out a moan when Paul's still clothed hips crashed into his as they kissed and eventually he felt Paul pop the button on his jeans and slide them off of him. Sam didn't remember the technicalities of much else after that. All he remembered was moving with Paul. He remembered the pleasure and the pain and everything in between and he remembered digging so hard into Paul's shoulder blade with his nails that he was sure he'd made him bleed. He remembered Paul's hot breath on his neck and his teeth nipping Sam's ear and most of all he remembered the pure ecstasy he had felt at the end of it all. Next thing he knew he was laying next to Paul, being spooned from behind and pretending to be asleep but when reality he'd tried to. The nightmares had plagued him again and he couldn't bring himself to wake up his bedside companion so that he wouldn't be alone. Sam had tried to hold on, but he'd ended up crying halfway through the night and that had woken Paul up._

_ "Sammy," Paul stirred and opened his eyes. "What's wrong?"_

_ Sam wouldn't answer him. He kept his back turned away so that Paul wouldn't see his eyes wet with tears._

_ "Was it not good?" Paul asked. "Did I hurt you? Sammy please talk to me?"_

_ Sam let out a soft chuckle. Paul thought it was his fault._

_ "Just a dream," Sam muttered. "Go back to sleep."_

_ "A bad dream?" Paul sighed and carded his fingers through Sam's hair. Sam had to admit the feeling was comforting and he found that he was relaxing into Paul's touch. Sam felt his hand running along the small of his back instead of his hair and he leaned into the sensation and let out a shaky breath. He wiped his tears and finally turned to face Paul._

_ "I get em a lot." Sam said quietly. _

_ Paul didn't reply, he simply pulled Sam close to him and tucked his head under his chin. He pulled the blankets over them and held Sam. _

_ "Well," Paul said. "No more okay? Because I'm gonna chase em away."_

Sam awoke from his dream with a start. He was sweating and immediately his eyes ghosted over to the other side of his bed. He half expected another body to be there but then he realized where he was and that it wasn't college anymore. Sam rubbed his eyes and sat up to see Dean coming out of the bathroom, fully dressed, and holding a towel. He tossed the towel to Sam and the younger Winchester flinched a bit but caught it.

"Up and at em Sammy," Dean said, the nickname cutting Sam to the core, but he was too out of it to argue with Dean. "We're meeting Paul at this café in the nicer part of town."

Sam nodded and walked towards the bathroom. He earned another look from Dean, but he ignored it once again and started up the decently warm water in the shower then stepped in. He wished he could wash away the images from his dream as easily as he could the soap covering his body.

**Reviews are appreciated!**

**Any guesses as to creatures?**

**And will Sam and Dean talk much less Sam and Paul?**

**More to come soon!**


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Stella's café was full of life even at ten am. Paul sat outside with shades on so that he wouldn't be bothered by any passersby. Normally he wouldn't mind signing anything for his fans, but today was all about business and not the kind he did during the day. Paul had a knife tucked into his leg halter under his jeans just in case the mystery monster made an appearance. He turned his head when Sam and Dean started to walk in and motioned for them to sit with him. A lady with black hair and deep hazel eyes came over to them and took their drink orders before walking away.

"Rough night Sammy?" Paul asked with a small chuckle and Sam stared forward at him. He hadn't even told Dean what he'd dreamed of and he intended to keep it that way. He knew at some point he and Paul would probably have to talk, but first it was about the hunt at hand.

"You could say that." Sam replied. "So what about this homeless lady we're meeting?"

"She lives in an alley nearby," Paul explained, "I actually pass her quite often on the way back to work after my lunch break. If we catch her now we may be able to talk to her without the other prying ears of her alleyway companions."

"After breakfast," Dean said. "I'm starving."

"Same." Paul nodded. The trio all decided on their respective breakfasts before the waitress walked off again. The trio scarfed down their food and Paul paid the waitress and owner of the café a great deal before they begun to walk off down the street towards the homeless person encampment. The majority of them hung out in the alleyway near the bars and the seedy red light district where they could easily get handouts from drunken people and those who shared the same financial situation as them. Paul had always felt sorry for all of them, coming from practically nothing himself. His family hadn't been rich before he'd gone off to college and even then he'd saved up the money himself and gotten a number of scholarships. Now Paul always sent a check back to his parents every month to help them, but never had he received a thank you in return. His father had never approved of his choice of acting as a career and his mother was ruled under his father's iron fist. Another reason Paul had left. He could only hope and pray that the check was cashed by at least his mother and it helped them pay the bills. He didn't ask for anything else.

The neon lights for the convenience stores buzzed red, blue, and green and Paul knew they were getting closer. He motioned for Sam and Dean to stick close to him as they passed a few crack heads looking for another hit. Eventually they reached the alley Paul had been talking about and the actor took a sharp left turn and went down it unafraid. Dean was a bit apprehensive when he saw a few of the homeless staring up at him, but Sam kept a level head. At Stanford he'd been required to do a certain amount of community service and one of the things he'd chosen had been to feed the homeless once a week. He highly doubted that any of these people recognized him though.

"Excuse me," Paul found the woman he'd seen on the news and she looked up at him and smiled. "Is this spot taken?"

"Well you certainly don't look like the type to be here," the woman chuckled. "But no it's not."

"I have a type?" Paul asked and the chuckled himself before sitting down next to the woman. The others stared in shock at the well dressed actor sitting among them in the grime and filth of the alleyway that most other stars wouldn't dare touch. "I was wondering if you knew anything about that disappearance that happened here a few nights ago."

"Oh that," the woman sighed. "The police don't believe me."

"I'm not the police," Paul explained. "Neither are my friends here. We just live here and we're concerned. I saw you talking to the reporters on the news and you seemed pretty freaked out by whatever you saw."

"It was a giant bird," the woman suddenly spoke up, earning looks from her friends to zip it. "A giant bird took that man away. I saw it with my own two eyes."

"A giant bird," Paul was just as confused as the Winchesters were. "What did it look like?"

"It was black and white," the woman went into some detail. "It had yellow eyes that scared the living daylights out of me and the others. And the bird was huge, as big as a human is I swear on my life."

"I see," Paul looked up at the Winchester brothers and slowly stood up. He dug around in his wallet and produced two twenty dollar bills. "Well thank you for telling me all this M'aam. Go on; get some lunch you and your friends. You all look like you're hungry."

"Oh bless you young man," the woman took the money and smiled brightly. "God bless you."

"You too," Paul smiled and walked off with Dean and Sam out of the alley. He turned to them and looked around for listening ears before speaking. "Sounds like something sort of monster, I'm not sure what though. Maybe you two have some lore on it and don't even know it?"

"It's possible," Sam replied. "We can always look."

"I've got a meeting in an hour with my agent," Paul checked his watch. "Something about a commercial, it shouldn't take me too long, but tonight why don't you guys stay at my place? It's big enough and if we're all in one place and we come across the right lore we can just tell each other rather than rushing off to find one another."

"I mean sure," Dean shrugged. Sam was surprised he was putting this much trust into another hunter, but then again Dean had his reasons for everything and this time it could simply be to make Sam talk about Paul and what they'd been through together. Ultimately Sam wasn't ready to open up that can of worms with Dean, but if he had to he supposed it could be much worse. "Is that fine with you Sammy?"

"Yeah," Sam winced a little at the nickname, but kept his composure. "Sure Paul. We'll go there now."

"Awesome," Paul nodded. "I'll text you the address. I think you'll be able to find it though. Howard will let you in and make yourselves at home okay?"

Dean and Sam both nodded as they parted ways with Paul. Paul sighed at the potential complexity of the case. He'd never heard of a giant bird capturing people and taking them wherever this one had. But damn if he wasn't going to find out. This wasn't going to keep happening in his town, not if he could do something about it, with the Winchesters help of course, though Sam seemed a bit hesitant about the whole thing. Paul understood why and determined that before the hunt was up and the brothers were gone that he'd talk to Sam. It had been a long time coming.

Paul put on his sunglasses so he could avoid being mobbed by the paparazzi and walked towards the studio. Sam and Dean made their way towards their motel room in the opposite direction.

**Reviews are appreciated!**

**There will be more flashbacks and answers to why Paul and Sam have tension.**

**Any creature guesses?**

**More to come soon!**


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The afternoon heat from the sun beat down on Paul's back as he walked back to his car. It was parked about a block from his agent's office and he'd immediately regretted it. Normally he didn't mind walking the heat, but today was insanely hot. When Paul slid into the driver's seat of the Porsche he cranked the air conditioning and turned on the radio before pulling out the parking space and starting off towards his house where Sam and Dean were waiting for him. He sighed at the thought of Sam. He knew the two of them had to talk eventually because obviously the past had come back to Sam full force. Paul had tried hard to drown the guilt he felt until this very day about what had happened with Sam, but now that the younger Winchester was back he could feel it rising again.

Paul turned up the radio when he heard a reporter speaking.

_"I am on the scene of another disappearance," _the woman said. "_In broad daylight too, whoever is doing this is very skilled and must be stopped. Police are investigating the scene now near Husky Street."_

Paul dialed Sam immediately.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

_"Why do you listen to Toad the Wet Sprocket so much?" Twenty Two year old Sam asked his roommate. "Don't you ever get sick of them?"_

_ "I listen to other stuff too," Paul said in defense. "But no I never get sick of them. They've gotten me through so much. I listen to them when I'm upset, or when something is on my mind."_

_ "What's on your mind this time?" Sam asked._

_ "What are we going to do after college Sammy," Paul asked, leaning into Sam's side and resting his head on Sam's shoulder. "I mean you and I?"_

_ "Hey," Sam looked at Paul, who turned his head towards Sam and Sam kissed him. "We'll figure it out."_

"Sam!" Dean exclaimed, breaking Sam out of his trance. Ironically the younger Winchester's eyes had been fixated on Paul's wall where an old Toad the Wet Sprocket album entitled _Fear _had been framed and hung up. "Dude you were out in space in somewhere."

"What," Sam shook his head and looked over at Dean who was seated across from him at the dining room table. The window was cracked ever so slightly to let the slight ocean breeze in and the sun was shining down on the brothers. "Oh sorry Dean...just saw the record there, on the wall, it brought back...memories. He used to listen to them when he was upset."

"Dude you're like an old married couple with Paul," Dean chuckled.

"Something like that," Sam muttered the first part so Dean couldn't hear. "Well if you live with someone for awhile you pick up on their habits and quirks Dean."

"Woah Mr. Defensive," Dean threw his hands up and made a face. "No need to explain your zoning."

Sam was about to say something else, but his phone started ringing loudly. He picked it up and answered it.

"Paul," he said.

"_Sam listen," _Paul said as dodged through traffic. "_There's been another abduction probably by our mystery bird. I can't go and impersonate because they'll know who I am. I need you guys to investigate the scene. It's on Husky Street."_

"Sure," Sam began to grab his stuff and Dean followed suit. The pair changed into their FBI suits and walked out the front door and over towards the Impala which was bathing in the sun. "We're headed there now. We'll catch you back at your house after we get what we need."

"_Alright, ten four." _Paul hung up and Sam got into the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean punched in the code to exit the gate and they were off.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

When Sam and Dean pulled up to the scene they saw a part of it roped off by police tape and the local authorities interviewing a few witnesses. Dean parked the Impala and he and Sam ducked under the yellow tape and walked over to the officers.

"Agents Crosby and Nash," Dean introduced them and the brothers showed their fake IDs. "FBI, we're investigating the disappearances."

"About time the feds showed up," the officer muttered. "Yeah another one went missing, this time a woman. We're taking evidence back to the station now."

"Ah I guess we're a little late," Dean chuckled. "Oh well. Care to catch us up to speed?"

"Woman vanishes," the officer led them over to where the woman had been standing. "We found no traces of her, but we did find a ring."

"A ring," Sam asked to see the bag the officer was holding. "The weird thing is it's a man's ring. Sort of older, the weird thing is that forensics couldn't pull any DNA off it from their initial swab a few moments ago."

"I see," Sam sighed. "Well thanks anyway detective."

The officer walked away and Dean turned to Sam.

"I'll talk to the witnesses," Dean instructed. "You go back to Paul's place. Tell him what we figured out so far. Maybe he'll have a lead as to what to do next."

"Yeah," Sam was a little less than enthusiastic about being alone with Paul, but he didn't openly complain. "I'll see you back there."

Dean nodded and strode over towards the two witnesses. Sam debated taking the Impala, but he decided he'd rather walk. He needed to either be really drunk or clear his head for the potential conversations to come. And he decided on the latter and he set off on foot back towards Paul's house. It was only a few blocks away anyway.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Paul parked his Porsche outside his house and walked outside. The ocean air filled his nostrils immediately and he knew the window was open. What shocked him was Sam sitting at the dining room table.

"Nobody ever sits there anymore sad to say," Paul spoke up and Sam jumped a little. He'd been reading an old book that Paul had had on his college dorm bookshelf. "I see you found my favorite book?"

"Hope you don't mind me reading it," Sam closed the book, but Paul noticed he'd marked the place. "I had nothing else to do until Dean gets back from hopefully just interviewing the witnesses and not anything else."

"Not at all," Paul sat down across from Sam. "You always did love reading. Guess you don't have much time for that anymore?"

"Not unless it's a potential case." Sam replied with a sigh.

"Funny how the thing that broke us up is our occupation now," Paul said matter of factly. Paul had never been one to beat around the bush. In the past Sam hadn't minded that, he'd liked it actually. Now though, it was almost uncomfortable. "I thought I'd see you on the news for prosecuting some big time murderer or something by now. I always wondered what had happened to you Sammy."

"Please don't call me that," Sam looked down at his cuticles.

"It didn't used to bother you." Paul pointed out.

"That was years ago," Sam replied, a little snarky, but not on purpose. "It does now."

"We're gonna have to talk sooner or later Sammy," Paul said. "And when we do your brother's gonna have questions for both of us. Questions I don't know that you're ready to answer. I hoped that you'd moved on, but I can see you're still hung up on the past too."

"It's hard when you're the one who was dumped." Sam said the look on his face evident with anger.

"I said we were both hung up on the past," Paul explained. "I didn't say just you were. There's things I've wanted to tell you for years too Sam. When this case is over I'd like to talk before you leave, if that's alright with you?"

"Yeah," Sam sighed, not knowing what he was agreeing to. "Fine."

"Good." Paul nodded and looked over to the doorway just as Dean walked in.

"Well the two witnesses said the same thing," Dean explained. "A giant bird came and took that woman away, but there was something else. They said after the bird did so a man walked by the street and looked around a couple of times before walking away in the opposite direction. It could be nothing, but he could also be involved."

"Nice," Paul smiled, Sam wondered how quickly he could change his mood from what they were talking about, but then Sam remembered Paul was an actor. "It's starting to get dark. What do you say we call it a night and then start on this again tomorrow? I have work for awhile, but we can investigate after that and you guys are more than welcome to come to the set with me."

"Sure," Dean shrugged. "Sounds good to me."

"Fine," Sam said, Dean noticed his brother's mood change but said nothing. He determined he'd drill Sam later. "I'm gonna take a shower then I think I'm gonna go to bed."

"Alright," Paul said. "Guest bedroom is down the hall, bathroom too. G'night Sammy."

Sam walked off and Dean and Paul spent the remainder of the few hours before Paul had to hit it drinking a few beers and laughing about the bad movies on television. Sam could hear them from his room as he turned over in bed and tried to sleep. He remembered doing the same thing with Paul back in college.

"_You're an ass. You're not even an actor yet and you're already pointing out flaws in movies?"_

_ "I may be an ass," Paul replied to Sam. "But you love me?"_

_ "Damn right." Sam kissed him._

Sam prayed the case would open up new leads to them soon because he couldn't wait to get out of California.

**Reviews are appreciated!**

**Will anyone ever talk to anyone Yeesh!**

**More to come soon.**


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

The sun hadn't even begun to rise yet when Paul woke Sam and Dean up to go to the movie set. The brothers both showered and walked out the front door with breakfast burritos courtesy of Paul's best servant. Sam's had been made just the way he'd liked it in college and part of him was grateful while the other part made his stomach flip with every bite. It felt like he was biting into the past again and he had hoped it would never come back to him. Paul clicked the unlock button on the Porsche and handed Sam and Dean two VIP entrance passes before starting it up and driving off. Dean leaned back and let out a few content sighs, but Sam caught sight of all of the scenery around them. This had always been what Paul had been talking about, living in Hollywood. And now he was. It was almost surreal to Sam.

When they arrived Paul flashed his ID at the guard and parked near one of the prop houses. He motioned to where Sam and Dean were to go and told them to keep their eyes open for anything on the news or nearby while he worked before he was whisked off to makeup. Sam and Dean nodded and walked over to where guests were to sit near the set. It was an elaborate setup of gadgets and gizmos and what Sam identified to Dean as booby traps. He'd never seen the Fantastic Dan movies, the Winchesters barely had time to watch Pay Per View much less go to a film, but he'd read the books here and there as a kid when their dad would drag them from town to town and he'd managed to grasp the general concept of the stories. He explained to Dean how Paul played the infamous Fantastic Dan an Indiana Jones style hero who traveled the world with his partner Mindy Jones all while trying to defeat his arch nemesis the evil Dr. Doom who always set up traps for the heroes. The book series was a young adult hit and Sam was quite proud of Paul's prediction of the books being turned into movies one day. He was even more impressed with Paul's outlandish prediction that had come true about him playing Dan one day. It was Paul Wakefield though and if Sam knew one thing about his old flame it was that Paul didn't give up ever. That had been one of the biggest things that had attracted Sam to him.

"I need Paul over here Judy," the director called out. "Are you almost done with him?!"

"Yeah Simon," Judy Bloom yelled back. "He's on his way now, Miranda too!"

"Good," the director, Simon, was right next to Sam and Dean. He turned his head away to another person that caught the two hunters' eyes immediately. "Rodney go make sure our guests and the actors have some water."

"Sure thing boss." Rodney nodded and walked off. Sam noticed the director's eyes stayed on the young intern and Sam couldn't help but stare himself. The boy had the most unusual hair Sam had ever seen. Whatever dye he'd used on it sure did its job well. Sam and Dean turned their sights back to the set and there Paul and Miranda stood ready for the call of action. Paul smiled at the hunters and waved before Sam saw him do his pre-acting ritual. He'd done it often times before he had an audition in their dorm. Once Paul was done he was completely in character and the director called action.

Paul and Miranda went through the scene with ease like they'd done it one million times before. Sam had had to act a few times in his life whenever he and Dean had a case and he knew once you adjusted to a role (such as fake FBI) it became easier over time to just naturally act it out. Paul only fumbled once over his lines and during one part Miranda sneezed and Paul laughed so they had to do it over again. Sam enjoyed watching the process unfold though. But his eyes were drawn to the intern all of a sudden. Sam saw him look around a few times and then disappear behind set. Sam debated getting up and following him, but he stayed put in the end. Paul and Miranda made their way over to another part of the set where they were supposed a monologue, but Sam's eyes trailed up. There was a loose beam over the set that was wobbling above Paul's head and was clearly heavy enough to hit him and kill him if it did. Sam gasped and as Paul took his mark and started to talk the beam gave way and started falling towards him. In a split second Sam was up and Dean was yelling his name, but Sam dove and pushed Paul out of the way just before the beam hit the ground. Sam's knees were scraped up and his heart was pounding, but he didn't care. He had just saved Paul's life. It took him back to another time he had when Paul had almost been hit by a car.

_"Your knees are bleeding you idiot." Paul said._

_ "I just saved your life. Don't worry about my knees." Sam replied._

"Sam," Paul said, trying to catch his breath he looked over at Sam's knees. "Your knees are bleeding you idiot."

"Well," Sam replied, the flashback fading away as he helped Paul up. "I just saved your life. Don't worry about my knees...again."

"Damn it," Simon cursed and ran over. "Paul, Miranda are you two ok?"

"We're fine Simon," Miranda nodded. "This man saved Paul."

"I owe ya one Sammy," Paul patted Sam's shoulder and looked up at where the beam had been. He saw where it had detached. Or rather been detached by someone or something. The metal was bent in a way that seemed to resemble claws or talons. "Now what do you suppose did that number?"

"It was probably my fault," Simon replied, almost nervously Sam deduced. "I should've checked the beams I'm so sorry Paul...y-you could've been killed."

"But I wasn't," Paul placed a hand on Simon's shoulder but looked over at Rodney who had just graced the set with his presence again. "I certainly wasn't."

"What did I miss oh my God," Rodney ran over. "Paul are you ok?"

"Yeah I'm fine Rodney thanks for asking," Paul stared into the intern's eyes and tried to read them. He'd conveniently been absent when the beam had dislodged. Paul wasn't accusing him, but he wasn't ruling anything out. "Simon why don't we call it a day?"

"Good idea," Simon nodded hurriedly and announced they were done for that day. "Paul please come to my office when you can. You and your friends. I need to properly apologize."

"Sure thing boss," Paul nodded and turned to Sam and Dean once Rodney, Miranda, and Simon were gone. "You guys thinking what I am?"

"That was deliberate," Sam said. "That beam was crushed by something. Something not human."

"That scrawny looking Rodney guy was almost too conveniently gone when it happened," Dean said. "And the beam didn't seem to be having problems until he left."

"He didn't act guilty though," Sam brought up a point. "If anything Simon was acting strangely. And I noticed something else. Simon's finger has a ring tan, but no ring. What did the police recover yesterday from the crime scene?"

"A ring." Dean confirmed.

"Good job guys," Paul nodded. "And Sam I can't thank you enough for saving my life. It wouldn't be the first time after all. I'll keep my eyes open tomorrow when I go back to work. A movie waits for no man and accident or not Simon won't stop production. Besides he's nothing I can't handle. Now let's go get his sorry spiel over with."

Sam and Dean nodded and followed Paul to the director's trailer.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Simon was relieved when Paul and the others left after his faked apology speech. Truth be told he wasn't the one who should've been apologizing, but it wasn't like he could come forward with the truth anytime soon. People were dying though and Simon felt responsible. In a way he was entirely responsible. He did not regret his past choices, but he could only hope he could stop what was happening before it was too late.

He sighed when he picked up a black and white feather from the floor of his trailer and he was eternally grateful the three men hadn't seen it.

**Reviews are appreciated!**

**So? Is it Simon who's doing all this? And will Sam and Paul ever talk?**

**More to come soon!**


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Paul Wakefield was awake before the sun even rose that next day. He had never been afraid of death, not since he had become a hunter, but after his run in with it yesterday he couldn't help but be nervous. Paul was human contrary to his fans' eyes. He got scared. He ran from things (in fact too many things to count) and he most certainly was not invincible. Not even Fantastic Dan was invincible as proved by his many hours on the screen and in front of the camera, but before now Paul had relied on him to be the unbreakable part of him.

That beam incident hadn't been an accident and deep down inside Paul knew that, but he'd worked with the people who had witnessed it for so long he hated to think that one of them was behind it all. He knew most of the others were as clueless as him, but Simon had acted rashly. The way a guilty man would act. Paul had taken down many a monster and most of the ones who had done the crime acted the same way. Some were arrogant, but most were terrified of punishment. And Paul couldn't help but think his boss was acting the same way because he'd been caught in the act.

"Couldn't sleep in huh?" Dean came up behind Paul on the balcony and stood beside him, looking out over the ocean and towards the dark clouds and sky. Though Paul had hoped he'd have some time to himself to think he was grateful for Dean's presence at the same time and gave him a smile.

"Nah," Paul chuckled. "I've never been much of the sleeping in type. Just ask your brother I used to hit him with pillows to wake him up for classes."

"Actually that doesn't sound like Sammy at all." Dean replied.

"Huh," Paul said. "Maybe it was the other way around. Either way I grew out of it I suppose and now well I like being awake before the rest of the world has gotten their shit together yet for the day."

"Less paparazzi in the morning too I'll bet?" Dean turned to look at Paul, taking a sip of his coffee.

"It's like you know me." Paul laughed and reached down for his cup too only to find it empty so he quickly retracted his hand.

"What's the deal with you and Sam?" Dean asked and Paul immediately wished he did have coffee to sip. "I mean I knew he had friends at college, but he's acting like you're an ex girlfriend he doesn't want to see or something."

"_That's because I am..." _Paul thought to himself, but that wasn't what he said to Dean.

"Sammy and I," Paul started to say, thinking of the exact way to word it all. "We've got a past. Things I'm sure he doesn't want to tell anyone and quite frankly I left them all behind when I left college. Just know that it's issues that the both of us have to work out and when or if he wants to ever tell you about those years he will. If there's anybody who knows Sam it's me and you of course being his brother and all."

"He has been different this hunt," Dean sighed. "I thought it was just being back in California after what happened, but I tend to think it's more than that."

"Well I'm no rocket scientist," Paul replied. "But I can tell you that part probably isn't helping."

"Can't a man get a cup of coffee before people start talking about him?" Sam sleepily said as he appeared in the doorway leading out to the deck. Dean and Paul both bid him a smile as he joined them leaning on the railing and drinking the hot beverage.

"He can try," Paul laughed. "But the press never sleeps. Trust me I know. This just in Sam Winchester drinks black coffee on the deck of sexy famous and yet slightly insane movie star Paul Wakefield with his brother and Paul himself."

"It's too early for your mantras." Sam said, but found that he was laughing and smiling in response to Paul's humor.

"Admit it," Paul teased. "You miss it in the mornings."

"Only slightly," Sam replied, taking another sip of coffee. "About as much as I miss Professor McGregor's lectures on earth worms."

"What the hell do people learn in college?" Dean was slightly confused.

"Great things I assure you." Paul said.

A few moments of silence passed before anybody spoke again. Paul was the first to break it.

"I have work in two hours," Paul explained. "I say you two do some snooping around in Simon's trailer while I'm filming. Mine too; God only knows who this person is that has a vendetta against me. I don't need to end up dead before all these movies are filmed. Tell me if you find anything when we all meet up for lunch."

"Sounds like a plan," Dean could sense the slight awkwardness between Sam and Paul and decided it was best if he split until they all had to leave. He left his coffee mug on the table nearby and excused himself to go get ready. "I'll see y'all in a few."

"Now would be a good time as ever Sam," Paul rarely called him that, even way back when. "We've got a few hours."

"I...I can't Paul." Sam sighed. He wanted to talk to him. He wanted to set things right, settle the score per se, but he couldn't find the right words to say. He didn't want to open up the can of worms he'd tried so hard to close all those years ago.

Sam turned away and left the porch too and Paul suddenly felt more alone with his thoughts than ever before.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

"Dean we scoured this place," Sam argued. The pair were checking out Paul's trailer in hopes of finding some clue, but at the same time they wanted him safe so they were also remotely glad they didn't find anything. "There's nothing here."

"Ok fine," Dean got out from under the couch. "But if he was my good friend I'd want to be sure."  
>"He is my friend." Sam protested.<p>

"You two sure don't act like it," Dean wiped his hands on his jeans and readjusted his jacket. "More like gilded lovers in fact."

"It's complicated." Sam said, his voice going slightly quieter.

"Yeah, yeah, bromance and all that college roommate shit," Dean waved his hand to silence Sam. "Anyway let's head on over to Mr Idol's trailer and see what we can find."

"Mr. Idol?" Sam asked confused.

"American Idol," Dean replied like he had just said the most obvious thing in the world. "Simon Cowell? Bitch you need to get a life."

"Jerk." Sam rolled his eyes as the two snuck over to the other trailer. After Dean successfully picked the lock the two of them entered silently and on quiet footing. They both got their silent wish of being alone in the trailer and immediately started to look around. Mostly it was spotless in fact Sam suspected their wasn't an inch of anything covered in dust or grime. But as the light caught a picture frame he saw otherwise.

"Dean check this out," Sam pointed to it in the exact angle he was in. "It's got a thumb print on it. It's been picked up recently."

"The guy in it looks like that kid that's helping out on set." Dean observed as the two brothers stared intently at the picture. It was of the intern on set, Rodney. Rodney's smile was bright and it looked as though he was in another country based on the scenery behind him. They could only assume that Simon was the one taking the picture. Dean took a closer look and observed the rolling hills behind Rodney that disappeared and fog was behind them. The kind of fog that signaled there was water nearby. There was something else though. Rodney's eyes, it could've been a camera flare, but Dean could've sworn they had this unnatural yellow about them. Something he hadn't seen during the time he'd met the guy the day before.

"Excuse me," a voice rang out and the brothers jumped, looking over at none other than Rodney himself. Sam stayed quiet and shrunk back a little knowing he was in the wrong, but Dean stood his ground as he did with every monster he'd ever fought. Rodney had this almost menacing look in his eyes and Dean was determined to show the puny little punk who was the more dominant one. Rodney wasn't backing down either though and he shut the door behind him and came closer. "But this is a private office and I suggest if you don't have business to attend to with Simon that you leave."

"Aw but we just got here," Dean replied. "We were just hoping to talk to him about yesterday's incident."

"Well he's out doing his job which is what I would be doing right now if I didn't have to watch over knuckleheads like you," Rodney snarkily replied. "But I assure you the incident has been taken care of."

"I'm sure it has," Dean replied, not quite believing the kid. Something about him was making a shiver creep up Dean's spine and he wanted to get out of there post haste. "If you'll excuse us we were just leaving."

Sam left quickly first out the front door of the trailer and Dean reluctantly followed. He could feel Rodney's eyes on him the whole time, boring into the back of his head. Dean shivered when they left and walked back towards the set. Rodney watched them; peering through the blinds and tracking their movements back to where Paul and the others were. He sported a stern look and for a split second as Dean looked back he could've sworn he saw yellow eyes again, but for the time being he had to play it off as a trick of the sun.

**Reviews are appreciated!**

**Someone had requested more character interaction and dialogue so I put a bit more into this chapter. Don't worry folks Sam and Paul will have their moment.**

**As for Rodney? What's up with him?**

**More to come soon.**


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